Life means nothing for the famous composer, Parker Skye. With his life partner taken by a brain tumor, Parker can barely get through the day. Hiding inside his mansion, he works on his music and avoids the world. Unable to put the past behind him, a new relationship is not in the cards and yet his dark hungers for sharing a D/s lifestyle remain, burning into his soul. When a fire destroys his office and threatens his beloved erotic art collection, he enlists the help of a friend to find a contractor. Jack White knows the perfect man to bring Parker out of his depression. When Parker set eyes on the chocolate skinned, rough-hewn man, he’s more than intrigued.

Clark McGraw, Wrath to those that know him, is an ex-con determined to make something of his contracting business. Railroaded into prison for helping a friend, rage remains buried deep inside along with a damning secret that threatens his sanity. Refusing to take handouts, when his parole officer asks for a favor, Wrath resists but the moment he meets the sun kissed man, sparks fly. As a series of events push Wrath beyond his limits of control, his confusion and hunger for Parker grow. Both haunted and damaged, their respective pasts come crashing in. Can either man face and conquer their demons or will they succumb to the darkness?

EXCERPT

Parker stood shaking his head as the adjuster walked around the shell of an office taking copious notes.

“You’re certain the fire was started by the fax machine?” the woman asked as she lifted her glasses, her harsh gaze locked onto the melted plastic.

“Well, only as sure as the fire department was, Ms. Martin.”

“Well, sometimes they can be wrong. Are they doing a follow up investigation?” The woman eyed Parker, disdain on her face.

Frowning, he tamped back an ugly rebuttal as he heard the sound of a truck rumbling up his driveway. “They didn’t seem to think there was any need. I’m getting their report tomorrow, which I’ll forward.”

“That will do. I’ll just take a few pictures. Shouldn’t take me very long.”

You do that. “Sure. Seems I have company.” As Parker moved out to the lawn, he couldn’t tell who was behind the wheel of the jacked up, black Dodge Ram but he suspected the visitor was Wrath McGraw. At least something was going according to plan today.

As the door opened and the man climbed out, Parker glanced down at the steel tipped cowboy boots then blazed a long, hot trail up the length of the man’s body as his mouth dropped open. Sucking in his breath, he realized his cock was throbbing against the tight confines of his jeans. Jack wasn’t kidding when he’d said the man was huge. Standing at least six and a half feet, Wrath’s midnight hair fell to the middle of his back. Wearing dark shades, a pair of tight black jeans and a tee shirt that showed the exact reason God created man in the first place, the chocolate hunk wore dark and dangerous like a badge of honor.

Whew. Said under his breath, Parker’s pulse rocketed into overdrive as the man walked over, his stride long and powerful. Swallowing hard, Parker realized his foot was tapping involuntarily against the driveway pavement. He’d never reacted to a man this way. A fleeting vision of Wrath’s naked body forced a trickle of sweat down the back of Parker’s neck.

“Parker Skye?” Holding out his hand, the man took off his sunglasses and gazed down into Parker’s eyes.

Wiping the sweat from his palm on his jeans, Parker held out his hand and nodded. “You must be Wrath McGraw.”

Nodding, Wrath’s eyes glimmered. “Jack told you to expect me?”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“I owe Jack a lot. He said you had a fire?” Cocking his head, Wrath stole a glance down Parker’s form before looking toward the house.

Catching the look, Parker fought a grin as he guided them around the corner of the structure. “Yeah. Damn fax machine.”

“Happens more often than you’d think.”

The sound of Wrath’s husky voice sent a series of electric jolts skating down Parker’s spine. “Tell that to my insurance adjuster.”